


The Dusty Road Home

by the_rest_of_our_yesterdays



Category: The 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clarke Comes Home Fic, F/M, Secret Santa 2015 Gift Exchange, alternate season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:35:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rest_of_our_yesterdays/pseuds/the_rest_of_our_yesterdays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke heals with the seasons. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"When winter ends, the flowers, new birth, and beginnings of spring are almost enough to convince her to try to capture it on paper again. She gets as far as to put paint on her brush, but all she can see is red. She puts it down, slowly, carefully, this time. Apparently, she has more healing than she thought to do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dusty Road Home

**Author's Note:**

> A Secret Santa Gift for @purgatoryescape on tumblr

______________________________

Three months into her self-imposed exile she tries to paint again. While certainly not up to going home, she at least feels a bit more like her old self. Her attempt fails miserably. Even with so much time past from her days in the mountain, the only thing that comes out of her brush is pain, and blood, and death. In horror, she throws the paintbrush from her hand. It splatters on the cave wall. The stains, looking far too much like spilt blood, stay as a reminder for months.

—————–

When winter ends, the flowers, new birth, and beginnings of spring are almost enough to convince her to try to capture it on paper again. She gets as far as to put paint on her brush, but all she can see is red. She puts it down, slowly, carefully, this time. Apparently, she has more healing than she thought to do.

—————–

Spring slowly glides by, until summer suddenly arrives with a burning fury. This time last year, she’d just crashed onto Earth. She’d still been young and innocent and caught up in Finn’s disarming charm. She misses that girl, but far too much has changed for her to ever be her again. Painting is just about the last thing on her mind throughout the summer days, as she’s far too busy preparing for her second winter on the ground. She’d been caught woefully off guard last year, both from it being her first experience and her not having made any sort of preparations. Last year, she’d been doing her best not to survive another day, so she supposes she’s made a decent amount of progress. Instead, she’s fighting to survive as many days as she can.

—————-

Fall passes much in the same way as summer. It’s busy- significantly more so than summer- and exhausting, but good for her. Her mind has almost no time to wander from the tasks at hand. She’s even able to look at the red leaves without cringing, although she still tries her best to avoid looking.

—————-

During one of the long, empty days of winter, she finally decides to try again. This time though, she doesn’t reach for the paints. Instead, her hand finds a stick of charcoal from the fire. Looking at the book in her hand (the print too faded to read) she takes a deep breath and starts with a simple line. Before she knows it, Bellamy’s face is staring up at her. She knows, even without having seen his face in months, that everything, down to the last freckle, is exactly where it should be. The drawing still makes her sob, but this time at least, a small tinge of happiness finds it’s way within her. Over the winter, staring at the drawing of Bellamy’s face, she finds within herself the desire to just go home.

—————-

By the spring, that feeling has largely diminished, and home is once again a place to be feared. The winter had given her far too much time alone with her thoughts. She has however, had plenty of time to finish all the pages in her book with drawings of loved ones- from her father, to Raven, to Wells, to Anya. Each night, before she sleeps, she flips through every page. She’s not ready to return to them yet, still too plagued with nightmares and guilt, but soon. She’ll be ready soon. 

—————–

In the midst of her third summer on the ground, and her second in isolation, she spends a night under the stars. Bellamy, on one of their only quiet nights, had told her the myths behind every one he could see. For the first time in as long as she could remember, the thought of home is only a happy one. And she knows, that it’s time. It’s time to go home.

—————–

Fall is just peaking its head out when she catches her first glimpse of Camp Jaha. It’s much larger than when she’d left, wooden buildings sprawling out in all directions from the Ark. Looking at it, she almost decided right then and there to leave- convinced that she wasn’t ready for this. Except then, like fate, she catches a glimpse of a guard leading a group out of the gates. Instinctively, she knows it to be Bellamy, and her mind is made up. Before nightfall, she’s standing in front of the gates. The guard at the gates lets her in, a shocked expression on his face, after hearing her rasp out her name. She stands there, looking around at the unfamiliar buildings, when Raven spots her with a shout, and suddenly Monty is clutching her to him, Raven joining a few moments later. She hugs them back, feeling strange. This is her first contact with another person since she kissed Bellamy’s cheek nearly two years ago (most of her wishes it was Bellamy pressing her close to him). The two of them shield her from prying eyes on their way to the Ark, chattering about the improvements they’d made to the Camp since she’d left. Unfortunately, she’s far too preoccupied searching the quickly gathering crowds for Bellamy to pay them much attention. She’s had plenty of time to think over the reasons her mind would always drift to her partner, and now all she wants to do is tell him, or at the very least see him. They reach the Ark before she knows it, and she’s straining for one last scan for him, when she runs into something hard. Arms, Bellamy’s arms, hold her steady, until suddenly they are gone, and he is gasping out “Clarke.” She is Clarke, and she reaches for him, but all she catches is empty air. He glares at the space above her head. “I came back,” she rasps out, feeling pitiful. He scoffs. “I guess you did. Took your damn sweet time doing so.” He stalks out before she can explain. She needed time- can’t he understand that? Raven and Monty are shuffling, awkwardly, so she tries to offer a reassuring smile. Really, she’s fine.

—————-

She’s been back for two months, and Bellamy had only begun speaking to her a few weeks ago. Even so, their interactions are limited to a few short sentences (“Bellamy! How are you?” “Fine. I’m needed on the wall. Excuse me.”). Or full-blown arguments, reminiscent of their first few weeks on the ground, although this time she’s not quite sure what it is they’re fighting about. To be perfectly honest, she’s not sure Bellamy knows either. Raven and Monty, the only two people she feels comfortable around, try to assure her that it’s him that needs time now, that he was devastated when she left, and just when he was starting to get over it, she showed up again. It’s messing with his head they tell her. She tries to let them placate her, but it feels like something bigger is happening. Things finally come to a head when Octavia and Lincoln return a few weeks before Christmas. Octavia, in her usual blunt way, takes one look at Clarke and is screaming for her to leave. She shrinks in on herself as Octavia yells about what horrors she’s committed, and why they even let her back in in the first place. She just takes it, let’s Octavia rail on her because she deserves it, when Bellamy steps in. “Stop.” He says. “Let it go, O. I’ve forgiven her. So should you.” That’s the end of it then, Octavia shooting one last dirty look in her direction before hugging her brother. She can’t get Bellamy’s words out of her head though. I’ve forgiven her. Like it wasn’t even a question. I’ve forgiven her. I’ve forgiven her.

—————–

Things quiet down after that. They don’t talk much still, and now he doesn’t even argue with her. She sees him more though. He’ll hand her a cup of coffee in the morning. She’ll nod her thanks. She sits with him at dinner. He pushes his roll onto her plate. Some nights, he even joins her outside, where they sit for hours, just staring at the stars. Eventually, on one such night, she finally speaks up. “It was the stars that made me decide to come home.” He blinks questioningly at her. “Every time I thought of here for months, I was filled with this awful dread. It was how I knew I wasn’t ready, until one night, I was looking up at the stars- thinking of you and your stories- and instead I just missed my home.” Bellamy still doesn’t speak, but when she finds the courage to drag her eyes away from the sky and back to his face, she finds him gazing at her with something she can’t place in his eyes. Smiling, Bellamy moves to cup her cheek with his hand. “I was just angry because I missed you. And then you were back, and I wasn’t quite sure what to do.” Clarke, for the first time in years, smiles. “How about you kiss me?” And so he does.


End file.
